The mirror was lying, but damn was it a good looking lie.

Bird turned a bit, seeing himself from as many angles as he could to make sure he looked as normal as possible. To make sure that all his Weirdness was hidden in some way.

The tunic and vest were nicer than any Bird had worn before; Mono had managed to get her hands on some excellent linen. The tunic was a light tan and the vest was a dull green, each cut and sewn with clean lines. Mono warned him the insides were a mess, though it was still well beyond his standards. It featured a high collar that rose to his jawline and hid the black patterns on his neck that would expose him. It was laced with cording that Lucy had woven.

The tunic ended after his elbows, tucking into gloves that Mono had customized for him. The fingers had been cut off after the second knuckle, leaving Bird with enough dexterity to actually work without having to remove them.

As long as he kept the mouths closed the gloves would help his hands appear normal. Functionally he could just keep them closed and his hands would pass mild scrutiny, but the fabric would keep unconscious movement from causing trouble.

The trousers and boots were dark and durable, things a traveler might wear. Altogether, he almost looked Normal. But it was the necklace that brought the final piece into place.

It was a simple trinket, even more easily overlooked after some cheap weathering tricks. The small teardrop of blue glass held a simple enchantment, minor enough to escape notice. It was a cosmetic illusion, popular in Goldwind for people wanting to change the color of their eyes or hair without the permanence of other alchemical solutions. As long as it remained on, Bird’s eyes would be blue and his pupils round. No orange flakes, no diamonds.

Bird took it all in, clutching a patterned headband while trying to make peace with this new appearance.

“Well, how do I look?” he smoothed back his hair and slipped the headband on, keeping the blonde bramble out of his face. He had braided a single tail of it from his right side and draped it over his shoulder; Foresight had said slight asymmetry was in style right now, and Bird had to agree with that particular trend right now. The rest of his blonde mess had been groomed and fell just behind his shoulders, as neatly as it would.

“Bad.” Lucy chimed in with the lack of hesitation that only a child could have. “Do you have to do this?”

“Lucy, we talked about this.” Bird ruffled her pink hair, the smell of dye still present after a few days. Thrash had helped her with it, knowing the youngling would dye half her face pink without some supervision.

“I know, but what if they find out?”

“They won't.” Foresight groaned out from the couch, resting a wet cloth against his face. He had used his Calamity a few too many times this morning to check things out.

Making sure Bird's disguise was in-fashion enough. Making sure which gate had the fewest guards. Making sure the store Bird had broken into wasn't out in force looking for one necklace.

The most exhausting of the lot was looking a few hours into the future to see if Bird would get caught at the entrance examination. Every paranoia had been checked out and the effort had drained all the mana Foresight had and left him with a righteous migraine.

“See? If Foresight says I'll be fine, I'll be fine. The dude can see the future Lucy.” Bird did a fine job putting on a show of confidence. Foresight's Calamity only let him ask specific questions and get vague answers or visions; there were a lot of loopholes to something as malleable as the future. “Besides, how can I teach you how to use your Calamity if I don't go and learn more about them?”

He watched a nervous spark trace the horn that spiked from her forehead. Bird didn't let the discomfort show when it arced into his hand, numbing a few digits. Luckily Lucy hadn’t noticed.

“You promise that you'll come back?”

“As much as I can, okay Luce? I have to be careful, yeah?” It was clear she still wasn't happy with it, but she didn't voice the complaint. She did move to hug his waist though, latching on with a desperate grip. Bird didn't have the heart to dislodge her and looked up to the others. “So, what about you? Think this is normal enough?”

“Yeah. It’s good as we'll get your scrawny ass.” Thrash was leaning near the mirror, a sour look sitting under the curved black horns on her forehead. She was fidgeting with the spearblade at her side, errantly digging holes in the floorboards. Lucy had gotten the closest to addressing the elephant in the room.

With a life spent trying to own their Weirdness, they were all helping Bird hide his. Even he didn't like it, but the simple fact was that he probably wouldn't be able to get past the guards heading into Goldwind if he looked like a Weird, let alone participate in the Academy's entrance examinations.

The necessity of sneaking into the Academy was the other beast in the room. Lowmyre had access to basic knowledge of Alchemy, but almost all of the advancements of the past few decades, if not century, were kept for Goldwind. The Lowmyre was a slum as far as the upper city was concerned.

Safer technology and better magic aside, Bird had a more vested interest in Lucy's future than his own.

If you were born with magic up in Goldwind, you were a prodigy. They'd call you a mage, a sorceress, a natural-born. Sure, anyone could learn alchemy and magic if they studied, but the stories of noble families sending naturally gifted children to the Academy and their exploits even managed to waft down to Lowmyre.

If you were born normal in Lowmyre with natural magic, you had a chance. Move up a little in the social ladder, maybe even make a move into Goldwind if you had decent luck.

If you were born Weird, you had a solid chance of just being screwed. There was no real knowledge of how to manage magic like that available in the Lowmyre. For all Bird knew, Goldwind might have been outright in denial about Weirds having natural magic at this point. If you lucked out with something mild then you might be alright. Nobody gets hurt, you live whatever life you can and keep moving. Then sometimes, you’d get someone like Lucy, Foresight, or Bird.

Foresight called his Calamity Clairvoyance, and it had been why he picked his name to begin with. Having access to the future planted seeds of paranoia deep in his head though, and his loose grip on the mechanics of it meant it hurt him every time. Once or twice was fine, but Foresight had regularly driven himself to grievous migraines with reckless usage. Even knowing that, holding off only made his paranoia worse, and it was a weekly event to see him laid up on a couch.

None of them wanted Lucy to end up with a complex like that, especially since her Calamity could actually hurt other people. The lightning that little horn channeled could result in some nasty burns, and her emotions just made it more erratic.

“This will work.” Bird said it almost more as an assurance for himself than the room, but Mono and Thrash at least nodded the affirmative. “Let’s run some lines, make sure I don’t say something stupid.”

Mono managed to redirect Lucy’s attention to helping with this part of the ruse. It was more a precaution than anything, but it was still an important base to cover; there was only so much Lowmyre slang that Bird could loose before people got suspicious. The biggest issue was referencing alchemy.

To them, there were four schools of Alchemy, and you called a person what they did.

If you worked with constructs or basic technology like Foresight, you were called a Golem.

If you specialized in using your mana to cast what base magic Lowmyre had, you were a Spitfire. The few who could work with spellguns fell here too.

If you had a knack for physical alchemy, weapons, martial arts, and busting heads? You were a Blitz.

If you worked with potions and brews, you were a Chemist.

Goldwind was supposedly a lot more freeform about how they talked about it, and all Bird could hope for was feigning ignorance just long enough to figure out how they did it up there. There was a lot of ground to cover though.

The entrance exam was scheduled for noon, and with dawn about an hour away they were running through everything as quickly as they could. A background story that was vague enough it wouldn’t be proven false, but formed enough to answer questions. A dialect that didn’t involve anything that would immediately ring of Lowmyre. The roundabout path into Goldwind he was going to have to take. An escape plan if things went sideways.

***
(Continued in Chapter 2.2)